


Leg Up on the Competition

by therunawaypen



Series: 00Q Tumblr Prompt Fills [46]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: BAMF!Q, M/M, Prosthesis, Robotics, roboleg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therunawaypen/pseuds/therunawaypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James discovers that one of Q's legs is a prosthesis. Q then goes on to show what the Quartermaster of MI6 can do when given a robotic leg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leg Up on the Competition

**Author's Note:**

> "Q has an amputated leg. Because of this he has ramped up his prosthesis so it can do cool things like play music, charge mobile devices and store immense amount of data (so like a leg shaped hard drive). Q is often approached by people saying things like “Hey Q, my phone is dying. Can I have your leg?”" —anon

When James overheard one of Q’s minions ask Q to “lend him his leg,” James had assumed that it was a simple misspoken idiom. After all, judging by the minion’s Russian accent, English probably wasn’t his first language, so it would be an easy mistake.

That was, until James heard the heavy _thump_ of something being set on the minion’s desk and he turned to see a _life-sized leg on the desk._ And judging by the shoe and dress sock on one end of the leg, James had a pretty good idea who’s leg it was.

Seeing Q at his desk, sitting in his chair without a care in the world that one of his trouser legs was an empty sleeve, made it all the more surreal.

“He wasn’t joking then?” James raised an eyebrow, watching Q.

Q looked up from his computer, “About my leg? No. The minions tend to use it from time to time. I don’t mind, really.”

James nodded, “And…how long have you been going around with a prosthetic leg?” He blinked, “And why would your minions need to use it?”

There was a smirk on Q’s lips, “As for how long I’ve had it, I’ve been an amputee since a drunk driver cost me my leg when I was 16; I’ve had _that_ particular model since I became Q and had access to all this wonderful technology.” He nodded, “And as for why they want to use it…did you really think it was _just_ a leg?”

* * *

 

James had thought Q had been joking about his leg.

He really should learn to take Q more seriously. After all, the young man had proven himself on countless occasions.

Such as when Q had to assist him smuggling sensitive information out of the den of a known international crime syndicate. And they had been captured (of course they had, when _didn’t_ their missions go arwy?).

Their captors seemed under the assumption that Q would more likely to crack and tell them where their information was (this was probably true, but James would _never_ tell Q that).

“Have you tried checking my left foot?” Q answered drily, ignoring the fact he was currently tied to a chair surrounded by people who wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.

The cheeky remark earned him a slap by their interrogator, “Don’t play coy with me!” He snarled.

Q grit his teeth, “Who said anything about being coy? It’s in my shoe, idiot.”

James tried and failed to suppress a groan. Q was going to get them both killed at this rate.

The leader ordered one of his thugs to remove Q’s shoe to check for the stolen information. What they weren’t expecting was for one of Q’s toes to fall off.

“I suggest you close your eyes, 007.” Q whispered before closing his eyes. James barely had enough time to follow the order before the toe (or rather, the flash bomb) detonated. Judging by the screams of their captors, they were not as fortunate.

There were gunshots echoing in the empty building, James could only assume their captors were firing blindly. So imagine his surprise when he opened his eyes, only to find all of their captors laying in bloody piles on the ground.

And Q watching them all with the knee of his slacks torn to bits and smoking faintly, wafting the smell of gunpowder into the air.

“You turned your knee into a gun?” James couldn’t help but stare. Now that the fabric covering Q’s leg was destroyed, James could also see that the fleshy latex disguising the prosthetic was also torn away, revealing the sharp steel and array of wires that lay beneath.

Q smirked, “Thank you for stating the obvious, James.”

“ _Why?”_

“Oh I don’t know, maybe for situations just like this?” Q rolled his eyes, “Now are you going to get out of those ropes, or do I have to cut you out?” At James incredulous look, Q frowned, “I have a knife in my leg disguised as my tibia, alright?”

“Hell of a big knife…” James grumbled, working at the knots holding him in place, “So where is the information M asked us to retrieve?”

“In my leg of course.” Q smirked again, “Where else would I put it.”

“ _Of course_ it’s in your leg.” James resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “Is there anything your leg can’t do?”

“Stand up comedy,” Q drawled, “But I’m working on it.”


End file.
